


Thank God for good whiskey

by tsundanire



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Drunk Dancing, Drunken Shenanigans, Fluff, M/M, Much whiskey, POV First Person, Prompt Fill, lots of swearing, lots of teasing, mostly from Jensen...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 22:06:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4581870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsundanire/pseuds/tsundanire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the spn-kink-meme over on lj : So long ago Jensen barely remembers it, he made a bet/deal with Misha, (Jokingly) that if SSM ever became legal, he'd kiss him.</p><p>http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/100606.html?thread=38217470#t38217470</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thank God for good whiskey

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this was an interesting one to write. I worked on it while working on a darker, multi-chapter-ed story, as a way to work on something fluffy and happy. I'm pleased with how it turned out, and hope you all enjoy as well. To the OP, I hope this was what you were looking for! Enjoy~
> 
> Edit: Edited for minor change.

+++

 

**3 years earlier…**

The biggest event of the year, the season 8 wrap party. Anybody who ever even touched something on set had been invited. This meant securing a big enough venue for the party, and enough booze to keep spirits high, and inhibitions low.

I’d already been here for a few hours, soaking it in, and watching as my friends let all the stress and tension from this last year fade into nothing more than a hazy memory.

I watched as Jared sat at a round table with Osric, Jim, Gen, and Ty, recounting some sort of hilariously dramatic tale, cheeks as rosy as apples. I can’t help but grin as I watch that gigantic dork flail about as the story reaches some kind of dramatic ending. I was proud to be his best friend, and even prouder to tell the world that he was mine.

Course, at this point it’s mostly the whiskey talking, bringing out my inner sap. But what the hell… Everyone knows a damned good whiskey always gets me feeling good.

I saw my friends greet each other all over the room, laughing, telling stories, dancing, and of course drinking. Over the course of the party I found myself being pulled into conversations, just as much as I was able to simply sit back and watch it. Every now and again I’d get sucked into a group by someone who just wanted to hear a story from my point of view. Or wanted to hear about the time we pranked someone on set.

I didn’t mind of course, seeing as I loved telling people about the fun we have on set together. It’s one of the better perks of the job that I’d never known before this show. The bonds and friendships that I’ve made over the years have helped shape me into the person I am today. So of course, I happily took the time to stop and say hello to someone, or tell them about the time Jared got stuck in a window during one of their scenes, and how it had taken us about 2 hours to get him out.

But the whole time, no matter what I was doing or who I was talking to, my eyes always managed to wander back to the same person. There was Misha, looking as if he couldn’t possibly be happier anywhere else.

From where ever I was in the room, I always managed to see him talking to people, laughing so hard that he had to hold his stomach a few times, and of course occasionally dancing. That part was always my favourite, because we all knew Misha wasn’t great at dancing. But what he lacked in skill, he always made up for with energy and enthusiasm.

But that was what made him so genuine. It didn’t matter what he was doing, or even if he was good at it or not… Misha always put in all of himself into everything that he did, and we all loved him for it.

At this point, I’ve obviously been staring too long because he notices that I’m watching him and his whole face lights up… Just for me. I’ve seen him in so many different ways, drunk, tired, pissed off, depressed… And this face?  It was one that he seemed to reserve especially for me. I don’t think I would have noticed it, had Jared not accidentally drawn my attention to it one time on set.

 

We’d been on set and Misha came around the corner to start his scene, and his whole face lit up the second he saw me. We hadn’t really seen each other for a month or two, but he made it seem like it had been years.

Jared had laughed and dropped an arm over both of our shoulders and told us what a cute love sick couple we made. Misha laughed his usual laugh, and goofily chased after Jared the way he usually did. But I was struck still for a moment, simply taking in that thought.

It was true that we three were rarely seen without each other… But there were certain things I did with and to Jared, and certain things that seemed Misha exclusive. I had never noticed that until this very moment, when faced with the fact that Misha only every smiled like this for me.

It hit something inside of me that made me feel utterly and completely melty, like a damned good grilled cheese. What the hell was I supposed to make of this feeling? When he goddamned smiled at me, my whole fucking world seemed to stop. As if the laws of physics didn’t work for me anymore and my core was now spinning around his axis. What the actual fuck?

It took even longer than it should have for me to come to terms with the fact that just because I liked the way he smiled at me, didn’t mean I was automatically gay. It just purely meant that I liked the way he smiled at me. And that left a lot of metaphorical doors open for me to explore. I didn’t want to throw labels into the mix when I had a hard enough time understanding what the hell this was in the first place.

But then over the next few months I started to see him a different way, and it stopped being just about the smiles. I wanted to see him look at me all the time, with those mischievous eyes, and that smile that said whatever he was about to do was going to get him in a lot of trouble, but would ultimately prove beyond satisfying.

I wanted him to do weird dances with me, and make faces at the camera with me. I wanted him to tell me things that he’d never told anyone before, and what was worse was the simple fact that I wanted to do that for him too.

There was really only one thing left for me to do, and that was talk to Danneel, my wife; the love of my life, the breath in my lungs, and the voice of reason for me when I get too stuck in my own head.

She’d been so patient with me; helping me work through what was essentially my “big gay crisis”. But let’s be honest here, I’d been toying the line between straight and something else for quite some time…

So it wasn’t exactly like Danneel was all that surprised. She’d seen the way Misha and I looked at each other, as if we just couldn’t help but be drawn to each other. She’d almost used the term ‘soulmate’ before I quickly cut her from that line of thinking. I never wanted her to think that I loved her any less because of this, and thankfully to this day she never has.

She helped me understand that regardless of what I felt towards her, sometimes there were certain attractions that couldn’t be helped. I knew in that moment that she probably understood more about what I was feeling than even I did. That’s what I get for introducing her to Misha, and more over Vicky.

Ultimately she and I came to an understanding that she was okay with whatever happened between Misha and I…. If anything ever happened that is.

 

But that leads us back to tonight… It’s been a few months since that first smile, and I’ve had some time to get used to the idea that I was attracted to Misha, or maybe there was something more there for me. I don’t know for sure, it’s still something I’m working on. But tonight was the last time we’d see each other for a while, at least until the convention circuit. So I figured, why not see if I could get something to happen tonight?

I’d spent all night watching him chat and dance and drink and just generally be merry with other members of our cast. Most of the time I was telling myself that I was waiting for the right moment to approach him, but I knew that part of it was just waiting till I had enough liquid courage.

The whole time though, I knew he was watching me too. Every now and again I’d see a flash of brilliant blue through the crowd, twinkling the way they usually did when he was having fun. I knew he was watching me just as much as I was watching him. And I also knew that he wouldn’t be the one to approach me either; he’d wait until I came to him.

It probably spoke a lot about how well he actually knew me, and knew that it had to come from me first… Otherwise we’d always question how I really felt about everything.

“Go on Jen… If you wait any longer, your Princess will turn into a pumpkin.” Danneel snickered from somewhere beside me, before twirling off and snagging Genevieve for a dance.

I rolled my eyes at her, but could feel the truth in her words. If I waited any longer to make a move I would lose the will to do anything at all.

In one of the smoothest moves I’ve ever made in my life, I danced from the makeshift bar at one end of the room, all the way to the other end to where Misha was. In one hand he held a drink above his head, the other hand was gripping Sebastian’s waist as they grinded together in mock dancing. Both of them seemed completely plastered but I knew that Misha was mostly acting for his part. He never really drank too much at these things, citing that he was getting too old for hangovers and the like.

Course, I think it was just that he enjoyed watching all his friends get beyond drunk and act like monkeys… But that was just my theory. I was one of the dancing monkeys after all.

I reached over and grabbed the drink from Misha’s hand, setting it on the nearby table. He flashed me a cheesy grin, as did his current dancing partner.

“Hey! I was drinking that…” He slurred at me, though it was a bit too heavy a slur to be real. And of course his eyes were still sharp enough to be completely aware of his surroundings. I offered him a smirk before leaning over Sebastian and whispering in his ear.

“Hey, I’m stealing your dance partner. I hear Jared’s available for a dance though…”

Within seconds Sebastian was gone, and I heard Jared’s frightened yelp from across the room. Payback was a bitch sometimes.

I took the newly opened position, slotting one of my legs between Misha’s and taking his arm around my waist. My arms dropped gently around his neck, making it look for all intents and purposes as if we were slow dancing to some song that only we could hear. It helped that no one really noticed for how drunk they all were.

“What can I do ya for big boy?” Misha’s brows wiggled suggestively which made me laugh as I dropped my head against his neck. I felt him tense against me, shuddering slightly as my breath tickled him. The idea that I was turning him on, even if by accident, was a very powerful feeling. One that excited me to the core.

“Oh, many things I’m sure…” I murmured back.

I let my face nuzzle into his neck as we danced, taking in his scent and feeling all the more intoxicated for it. Thank God for good Whiskey, because I wouldn’t have had the courage to do this on my own.

We danced like this for a while, which felt like mere second to me.

“Jen-“

“Mish I-“

We both laughed and tried to let the other go first. But instead we both laughed at our inability to communicate properly. He pulled away first, smiling shyly at me.

“I just need some water or something. I’m feeling rather… Flushed.”

I could see the pink tinge on his cheeks and knew he wasn’t lying… But I also knew that it wasn’t just because of the dancing either. I’d made him blush like that… But it didn’t stop the ache in my gut that he wanted to leave.

The strange thing was, even though he was pulling away from me he still held on to my hand. I looked at our entwined hands, then back at him. He was still smiling at me, knowing that it was probably going to take me a few minutes to process, and being ever as patient with me as he always was.

God I was falling for him.

I felt my own cheeks burning up, probably making my damned freckles more prominent than usual. He’d remarked on that once before, saying that he loved when I blushed because it made my freckles more obvious, which apparently made me look adorable.

Course, how a grown ass man can look adorable was beyond me. Until I look at Misha of course, and see the tender look he is giving me. Yeah, I get it. I get how grown men can be adorable.

I follow him as he makes his way to the side of the room where they’ve set up countless stations of bottled water and ice. Reaching out, Misha quickly opens a bottle and downs a few gulps before turning to me and grinning.

“So…”

I chuckle awkwardly and scratch at my head. Who knew how truly weird this whole situation might be. God I honestly thought it would be easy, like the first part had been. Seductively dance with him, warm him up to the possible conversation we were about to have and then just dive right in.

But no. Instead, we are lingering here and just… Not talking. Or rather I’m not talking because I have no idea what the fuck to say.

“You know, you might burst something if you keep thinking that hard.” He mused at me, looking as if he didn’t have a damned worry in this world.

“You know, they’ve been talking a lot about legalizing same sex marriage lately.”

Jesus Jensen, where the fuck did that come from? And what the Hell did it have to do with us? Obviously he is learning that when I get nervous, words just fly out of my mouth and I have no idea where they come from or where I’m going with them. He’s got that look in his eyes again, the one that says ‘Oh dear Lord Jensen. And people say I’m weird.’

“Ahuuuuh… So they say…” I can see Misha trying to figure out where the hell that came from, and what the heck it has to do with anything.

For my part I look nervous as all fuck, floundering in a setting that I’d somehow dreamed up and managed to fuck up in one sitting. Somehow there has to be a way to fix it, a way to make a comeback from awkward-ville and straight into awesome-land.

Especially if there is a pit-stop in makeout-city.

I look away from him for a moment and take a deep breath. Maybe drinking as much as I had was a bad idea; I probably should have done this sober. But then again, I wouldn’t have had the balls to do this without a few drinks in me. I was really screwed either way.

I feel him shifting beside me, as if he wanted to wander off from this weird and awkward place I’d put him in. The fires that we’d built between us during that dance had all but extinguished, leaving a low simmering ember and smoke in it’s wake. I was still aroused enough to want to push forward again, but now I worried that maybe I’d just gone ahead and blown it.

“I suppose there’ll be a big to-do and stuff if it does. I mean, it’s legal in a few countries already, so I can see us heading there. Not without a big fight of course. I’m surprised to see you mention it at all actually… Kinda figured you for the type who didn’t really care either way.”

I saw my moment and damned if I would let it escape me this time.

“Well, it’s important to our fans right? We have quite the LGBTQ viewership, so it’s probably important for them to see that we support them as well.” I quieted for a moment, trying to think of my next few words carefully.

“And it’s important to you… So that makes it important to me too.”

I looked up, knowing that I had a very uncertain look on my face.

“Is that so…?” The grin on Misha’s face said he knew exactly what I meant, and he wanted to hear more.

“Uhm… yeah. I… Well. Yeah. I guess that’s pretty much why.” I stumbled over the words, while simultaneously trying to figure out what the hell I was actually saying. I was drunk enough that forming thoughts was getting quite challenging.

“I see…” He smirked at me, knowing I was having a hard time with this.

To be honest, that’s the last thing I remember about that night. I was told I’d had a few more drinks, but I can’t remember anything about that. Which is unfortunate because apparently it was a very important moment in my life. One that Misha often chuckles about when he thinks back to this moment.

 

+++

 

**June 26 2015. 8pm…**

“So you’re saying you don’t remember anything else about that night?” Danneel laughed at me, one hand swirling a glass of red in her hand, the other draped across the arm of our couch. I rolled my eyes at her and shook my head.

“Nah. The last thing I remember is Misha getting some water and something about Same sex marriage but… I have no freaking clue.”

It was tough because I did remember the next few days… Weeks… Months… I remembered the looks he gave me were far more heated than they used to be. I remembered that his touches lingered far longer than what was typically considered normal. I remembered the way he would go into hug me and I’d feel his lips almost touch my cheek. Almost as if he wanted to, but pulled away from the idea at the last minute.

For months it was just him, lingering around me, hinting at something that I couldn’t seem to grasp. But I sure as fuck took a few more cold showers than I used to.

Within the first year, I started to play his little game right back. I could see that he knew he was affecting me, and he was upping the ante each time. It sucked so hard, and I just wanted to get him back for it. So I started touching him right back, letting my fingers slide down his arm or his back. I’d slap his ass during conventions, and even tease him with fake kisses both on stage and off.

After the second year, people started to wonder about us. Hell, even I started to wonder. What had happened that night? I thought I was supposed to go for it, to just tell him I was interested. And instead it began to feel like I was back to square one, with no idea how he felt or what he wanted, and no idea if he knew the same about me.

It was driving me so insane that I caved and ranted to Danneel. She didn’t have an ounce of sympathy for me however, stating that I should have taken the bull by the horns that night and just gotten it over with.

If I thought those first few months of figuring out my feelings for Misha were hard, it was nothing compared to the little dance we were doing now. Almost tiptoeing around what could be, and what actually was. It was the kind of game that I usually hated, because I enjoyed having everything out on the table. I liked knowing all the variables.

But with Misha it was… Kind of entertaining. And somewhat arousing. To have this little game of teasing between just the two of us, it was far more thrilling than I could have ever dreamed. But it still confused the hell out of me. Just what exactly did he want from me, if anything?

For three solidly frustrating years, I selfishly took everything that he gave me, and stored it away. I figured that if it hadn’t happened by now, it was probably never going to happen. And I was too much of a coward to initiate things anyway, as was proven by the night of the wrap party.

But now my wife was looking at me with a mix of fondness and concern.

“So you have no idea what you said to Misha that night… Do you?” There was a sparkle in her eye, one that I’d seen in Misha’s eyes far too often. They hung around each other far too often, because I was starting to see little Misha-ticks in some of Danneel’s everyday motions.

“Uhhhhhhhh…..” My brain stalled out.

I didn’t remember a thing after the water, but apparently I’d said something. Something that had prompted Misha to spend the next few years physically and sexually teasing me, until I couldn’t help but do it right back. Something that had obviously left an impression on my wife, if she was bringing it up now.

She smirked at me and pulled out her phone, swiping through her photo/video gallery until she came up to that particular night. Pressing play, she pulled me against her side and forced me to watch the horrid display that was my drunken self.

I watched the screen half in awe, half in horror, as drunk me actually managed to hit on Misha, only to have it turned right back around at him. That little fucker.

“Mi-… That fuck. He knew exactly what was happening. I swear to God when I get my hands on him….” I snarled, pissed off that I’d been so easily manipulated. That I’d spent 3 years wondering if something was ever going to happen. 3 years in which he was simply acting out his end of the deal, and making me want something I never knew I could have had at any time.

“When you get your hands on me, it better be for that damned kiss you promised me.” Misha’s voice carried through the room, jolting me up and off the couch. When the hell had he gotten here?

“Wha-… You-… what the actual fuck?” As always, the asshole managed to render me speechless.

“I flew in this morning. Just in case. I didn’t know for sure what the ruling was going to be, but I wanted to be close by just in case. And of course, you can imagine how hurt I was when you didn’t call me right away…” Misha fake pouted, but crossed his arms and leaned against the wall frame leading into the room we were residing.

Again, words seemed impossible for me at the moment. I didn’t know whether to be incredibly pissed off at both of these two people whom I loved, or to just say fuck it all and ravage Misha right where he stood, ending the years of frustrating sexual tension between us.

A look at my wife showed how deeply amused she was at the whole damned thing, but she was up and out of her seat before I could even get a word in.

“Well you boys have fun. I’m going to enjoy a nice long bath.” She smirked, winking at Misha as she passed him by.

My jaw was working overtime, opening and closing like a caught fish, but I still wasn’t able to get any words out.

“Really? Are you actually _still_  making me wait for this?” Misha pushed off from the wall and took a few short strides towards me. I could feel the heat coming off of him as he moved to press his chest right up against mine.

“Haven’t you made me wait long enough Jen? Haven’t we played that game enough?” There was a sound in Misha’s voice, something almost desperate or sad. I can’t say if it was his words or that sound that spurred me into action, but after 3 long years I finally closed the distance between us, both literally and metaphorically.

His lips pressed to mine and it felt like fireworks were exploding inside of me.

 

+++

 

_“Misha Mish, Mish, Mish!” Jensen tugged on Misha's arm gently, trying to get his attention... Even though he was the only person Misha seemed to have eyes for._

_Danneel’s soft giggling could be heard behind the phone, all the while the lens was pointed at Jensen and Misha, practically hanging off each other. Gen was whispering something, but it was so quiet that it wasn’t really picked up by the phone’s microphone._

_“What Jen?” Misha’s patient voice carried over to the video._

_“I-I’ll make you a deal!!”_

_“Oh? And what might that be?”_

_“If, If uhm… If that marriage stuff happens? It’ll make you happy right?”_

_“I suppose….” Misha sounded very confused, but let Jensen continue his train of thought._

_“Well, if it goes through, then I’ll make sure to kiss you the day that it happens! H-how does –hic- that sound?” Jensen appeared a little green for a moment, while Misha simply blushed._

_“I’d say that’s as fair a deal as any. But I have a caveat.”_

_“Ca-rrot?”_

_“No Jensen. Caveat.  Proviso, an amendment… Condition, if you will.”_

_Drunk Jensen could only really nod at this point, most of Misha’s words going over his head. Misha leaned in, lips pressed flush to Jensen’s ear._

_“I’m going to spend however long it takes for same-sex marriage to become legal, making your every waking minute the most tortured and teased you could possibly imagine. All because you are making me wait for my kiss. Does that sound like a fair deal to you?”_

_“Thank God for good whiskey, eh Gen?” Danneel’s disembodied voice traveled through the video. “Otherwise we’d miss all these fantastic moments. Let’s go find your husband next and see what we can get him to do!”_

 

+++

 

FIN

 


End file.
